


Red Shirt

by heymoonsie



Series: The Docile Serpent [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is all of us, Aziraphale is you, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Aziraphale, Fluff, Possessive Crowley, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4145907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heymoonsie/pseuds/heymoonsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale changes style and Crowley is confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first time posting on ao3 and sort of my first fanfic, too.  
> I work in a bookstore and some friends have been joking about me being Aziraphale, and it was all funny until I went to see Spy and Peter Serafinowicz gave me feels.  
> That's when I started to shamelessly ship Azira!me and Crowley.  
> Hmmm, so Aziraphale might be a little OOC, I don't know...
> 
> Fluffy one-shot. I'm not a native speaker, and this fic is unbetaed. You've been warned.

She came home to find him tending his plants, sunglasses sitting on top of his head. She smiled. He always looked so peaceful, water sprayer in hand, murmuring sweet nothings to the greens… Well, more like terrorizing them with threats, but he always did it with such care it almost seemed gentle.  
  


He must have heard her keys, since he turned around to greet her but froze in mid-sentence.  
  


   “Welcome ho-”  
  


He gaped at her.  
  


   “What are you wearing?” He asked in a slightly strangled voice.  
  


She looked down at her red chiffon shirt, black dress pants and matching Mary Jane heels. She snickered.  
  


   “What’s wrong?” She asked innocently.

   “You’re wearing… my clothes!” He swallowed thickly. “That’s _my clothes_.”

   “Hmmm…” She hummed noncommittally.

   “For the love of Freddie Mercury! Did you leave your top button undone the whole day?!”

  “Um…” She looked down her shirt. She did leave that button undone, revealing pale skin as well as her collarbones and showing just the slightest bit of cleavage. “Yeah?”

   “Good Lord of Hell… I’ve finally corrupted you, Angel.” He said a little breathlessly.

   “You did no such thing, you silly.” She chuckled and walked over to kiss him chastely on his lips.

   “But look at you!” He said between her distracting kisses. “You look devilishly delicious.”

   “Why, thank you.” She smiled against his lips. “Now you know how I feel when I look at you.”

   “You can’t go around like this anymore, Angel.” He tightened his grip around her waist, keeping her close to him. “My poor little heart can’t stand it.”

   “What, my big bad Anthony can’t handle a little showing of skin?” She pressed herself against his body, teasing.  
  


He almost groaned, the sound doing wonderful things to her ego.  
  


   “I can handle that alright. I’m just not sure I can deal with the thought of you going about showing skin.” He whispered, gently worrying her bottom lip between his teeth. “But for them to see you in my clothes, though. _God_.”  
  


Her expression is a mixture of smiles and furrowed brows, surprised that he would use the name of the Lord. She was also confused, not sure whether she found his possessiveness endearing or disturbing.  
  


   “You know, these aren’t really your clothes.” She reminded him.

   “But it’s my style, it’s the same…” He answered absent-mindedly, fingers playing with the second button of her shirt.

   “You want them back?” She grinned mischievously.

   “Hmmm.” He purred as he popped open that button.

   “Then come and take them, you handsome devil.”  
  


She pushed him away and dashed for the bedroom, laughing. He was dazed for a second but went after her immediately. He tackled her onto the bed, the both of them grinning. He hovered above her, taking in her flushed cheeks and eyes full of smiles. Surely no angel should be this tempting.  
  


   “Sometimes I’m not sure which one of us is from which side anymore, Angel.” He said quietly, a bit in awe.

   “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as we’re both on our side.” She smiled.  
  


He leaned down to kiss her. His angel always knows best.  
  


As their kiss grew hungrier, his hands urgently got back to finish what they started, hotly yanking at the buttons.  
  


   “Anthony Crowley, if you rip my shirt, I swear I will make you help old ladies cross streets!” She growled, still attacking his lips, his jaw, his throat.

   “I’ll buy you new onessss, Angel…” He hissed, right before tearing the soft fabric.  
  


He never bought her a new red shirt. He never admitted ruining it on purpose, either. The angel didn’t have to know that seeing her in clothes much like his bothered him as much as it turned him on. He preferred that the only times she stole his style were when she wore his shirts, in the safety of their bedrooms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked that.  
> If you can tell me why you liked/ didn't like it, it'll be awesome.  
> Comments are much appreciated.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: http://heymoonsie.tumblr.com/


End file.
